


I Remember You

by deancastiel



Category: Supernatural, deancas - Fandom, destiel - Fandom
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deancastiel/pseuds/deancastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a bartender who works at a local bar. Castiel is a regular customer. Both have had their eye on each other for a while. But Dean doesn’t know he’s much closer to Castiel than he thinks.</p><p>AU:  Dean had his memory erased and replaced with fake ones. He doesn’t remember Cas, but Cas remembers everything. It takes place in modern day Lawrence, Kansas where nothing supernatural is happening…that Dean knows of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Remember You

CHAPTER 1

It was a normal evening in Lawrence, Kansas. Things were slow moving in the city, people were headed home from the late shifts as all the shops closed down.

The setting sun painted the sky a deep bloody red and cast the town in an eerie dusk. Neon signs began to flicker on, creating a low, resonant hum that traveled up and down the streets as the bars began to open.

Along a side street near the edge of town, the Crosstown Tavern sat with its doors open to the cool evening air. The friendly sound of glasses clinking and low music wafted into the evening air.

A man with short brown hair and shocking green eyes stood behind the counter of the bar, the sleeves of his dark green shirt pushed up to his elbows. He scrubbed at the dark wood of the bar, his muscles standing out against his shirt. He seemed very casual to be working the bar, but no one dared confront him about it. Jeans, a dark t-shirt, a button up shirt, jeans and work boots was his wardrobe of choice.

The owner had tried to coax him into wearing the normal apron and plain black top with the words _Moe’s Crosstown Tavern_ scrawled in the top right corner countless times. But to no avail.

“Hey, Dean.” A scruffy voice called.

The man turned, tossing the rag on the counter, “What’ll it be, Russ?” He asked.

“Martini. Dirty.”

Dean shook the mixer, making yet another martini. _Doesn’t anyone have just a good old cold one anymore?_ His thoughts were disgruntled. It had been a really long shift so far and it was only 10pm. It was a Tuesday so not many people were coming in except the drunks and people who were going through mid-life crises.

But there was one face that Dean had yet to see today. Someone who was a regular at the bar, yet curiously he was not a drunk nor was his life wasn’t falling apart.

Dean absentmindedly shook the drink he was concocting, staring at the back of the bar. The bell on the front door jingled. Dean felt his heart jump slightly. He shouldn’t be this excited every time the damn door opened. He turned casually, his eyes expectant.

It was just another guy in his 40’s, still dressed in his work clothes. He decided to just sit at a table, staring at the neon signs advertising beer in the windows.

Dean felt his heart sink slightly. He poured the over-shaken martini into a glass and gave it to Russ who grunted in thanks.

The bartender sighed softly and turned, bending down to grab a few glasses. The door jingled again and Dean felt his ears involuntarily perk to the sound.

“I’ll take a pint.” Said a low, husky voice. Dean’s heartbeat quickened and he slowly stood and turned around, glasses in hand.

Before Dean sat the man he had been waiting for.

He wore, as usual, a pair of black slacks and a formal white shirt with a thin blue tie. A trench coat was draped over the stool next to him and he was leaning on his elbows on the bar. Tousled black hair brushed gently against the man’s smooth, pale forehead and striking blue eyes fringed by thick, dark lashes were looking straight back at Dean.

“Hey, Castiel.” Dean said, surprised by his own casual greeting.

Castiel’s lips twitched, “Hey.” He said wryly.

Dean turned quickly, feeling his chest tighten slightly. Castiel didn’t seem to be aware of how attractive he was, and that bothered Dean. He wished there was some way to bring it to his attention subtly. The bartender brainstormed how to tell Castiel what he was thinking while he filled a pint with the man’s usual choice of ale.

The golden drink swirled, the foam lapping at the sides of the glass, until it was perfectly aligned with the top of the mug. Dean placed the drink in front of the other man.

“Cheers.” Dean said casually, looking at Castiel’s eyes momentarily before dodging his gaze. It was too easy for Dean to forget he was staring at the other man, and he usually ended up making things awkward when he couldn’t look away from Castiel’s electric blue orbs.

Dean hastily went back to scrubbing the already pristine counter top.

He began to idly think about how strange of a name Castiel was. _Castiel…_ he mused, throwing the name around in his head. Besides the 3 years of Spanish he had taken in high school, he didn’t know much about any language. But he was sure that Castiel was not a normal name.

“What’s up with your name?” He asked, his eyes focused on the rag in his hand.

“My name?” Came the deliciously deep voice from behind him. It resonated through Dean and made him want to shiver but he resisted.

“Yeah. It’s pretty unusual. What’s the story behind it?”

There was a pause as Castiel took a drink. The mug clanked to the bar and Castiel took a deep breath, “It’s supposedly the name of an angel.” His voice sounded strange, almost irritated?

Dean turned when he heard this, studying the other man’s face. Castiel swirled the remaining beer around in his glass. Dean stood where he was, waiting for more of an explanation.

“And?” He prompted.

“And…that’s all I suppose.” Castiel studied his drink intently, almost intentionally avoiding the other’s gaze.

Dean’s curiosity peaked. He walked over so he was about a foot to the right of the other man and leaned on the bar with his elbows, “That’s all? What did the angel do? Why were you named that?” The questions tumbled out faster than Dean intended. He cleared his throat to prevent himself from ranting and looked expectantly at the man next to him.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Castiel looked up for the first time, his intense gaze finding Dean’s. Dean froze, unable to look away, “Why are you asking?”

“Like I said, it’s unusual. I was curious.”

Castiel looked up at the man next to him for a moment, not saying a word. He was so odd. He didn’t act normal at all, almost like he was an alien. This intrigued Dean and he couldn’t leave him alone.

While they had been talking the bar had cleared out so it was only the two of them left. Dean doubted anyone else would be coming in tonight and he poured himself a pint. He took a long drink, feeling the alcohol collect coolly in his stomach.

It was silent for a few minutes as the men drank, staring in opposite directions. Dean could sense that Castiel seemed tense, his shoulders were rigid and his hands gripped the mug tightly, his tendons standing out against his normally smooth skin.

“Why are you so curious about me?” Castiel asked, his voice guarded as he slowly looked up to Dean.

“Why…? I dunno, I guess you’re different. There aren’t too many people in this city that aren’t 9-5 average Joes.”

“How do you know I’m not an average Joe?” Castiel rumbled, his voice seemed strained and he turned his eyes back down to his glass.

“Uh….your name I guess. And you come in here every day…” Castiel’s frame got even more rigid and Dean backtracked in his mind. What had he said wrong?

“So you feel it too…”Castiel whispered so softly Dean only heard part of it.

“Feel? Feel what?”

Castiel looked up at Dean suddenly, “When do you get off of your shift?”

Dean was slightly surprised by the suddenness of Castiel’s question, “Um…well it doesn’t look like anyone else is coming in tonight. Let me clean up and close.” He chugged the rest of his beer and sighed contentedly.

He grabbed the empty glasses on the bar and began to wash them, “Why do you ask?” he questioned absentmindedly. There was silence. Dean turned, looking at Castiel.

The man was bent over the bar, his hands clenched into fists, his breathing labored.

“Cas?!” Dean shouted then paused. _Cas? Why did I say Cas?_  He was snapped quickly out of his thoughts when Castiel fell forward, his head landing on the bar. Dean placed his hand firmly on the bar and vaulted over. He paused again, _How the hell did I do that?_

Castiel began to fall sideways and Dean moved quickly, grabbing the man around the shoulders, “Hey, what’s wrong with you?” Dean’s voice was panicked.

Castiel’s head lolled against Dean’s firm shoulder, his eyes glazed over.

 _Shit…this is bad._ Dean looked at the catatonic Castiel in his arms and made a snap decision. He grabbed the other man’s coat and threw his arm over his shoulder. The keys to the bar were in his pocket and he slowly walked to the front door, Castiel in tow.

He locked the thick oak doors with a low click. He glanced down at the man next to him again, his eyes searching for blood or anything else that might explain what was happening.

The pair made their way slowly to the parking lot behind the bar, the only car left was a jet black, pristinely polished 1967 Chevy Impala.

It was a battle to open the car door and slide Castiel inside without dropping him, but he somehow managed. The man’s body was slumped against the leather seat that smelled pleasantly like must, cigarettes, and mint.

Dean slid in, grabbing Castiel and pulling him closer so he could lean on him while he drove. He didn’t want him flopping around in the car. The engine started with a fierce growl and Dean couldn’t help but smile a little bit. The sound was so sexy, and Dean could feel the power through the steering wheel. He could feel the rev of the hundreds of horse power underneath the hood. He had poured his life and soul into this car and it had served him well.

Right as he was about to start driving, Castiel stirred. He looked down, placing his hand under the other man’s chin to tip his head back.

Castiel blinked, disoriented. The first thing he saw was the stunning green of Dean’s eyes. His heart pounded painfully in his chest and he winced.

“What? What is it? What hurts?” Dean asked, his voice on edge.

This concern only hurt Cas more. He wished that he had never gone into that bar and that he had never come to Lawrence. He felt his chest tighten and found it hard to breathe.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.” Dean said, throwing the Impala into reverse.

“No!” Cas’s response was instant. Dean turned to look at him, confused.

“I’m fine. I just need to rest.”

Dean clearly didn’t believe him. His eyes were reproachful. His foot pressed the gas lightly and Cas grabbed his leg, “Please…don’t. Just let me rest for a while.”

Cas knew the best thing right now would be to get the hell out of here before he ruined the carefully constructed reality in Dean’s head.

But he couldn’t he was so close to him. He could smell his musk, an intoxicating mix of his aftershave and the smell of the Impala. Even though he worked in a bar, he smelled no different than he used to. Cas couldn’t stop himself from taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

His head fell to Dean’s shoulder which was firm with muscle but more comfortable than any pillow. He felt his throat tighten and his heart give an uncomfortable lurch. But he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. He was so comfortable.

Dean had tensed up when Castiel put his head on his shoulder but didn’t feel an urge to shake him off. His arm was still around his shoulders so he pulled him closer and slowly pulled out of the bar parking lot, his mind a flurry of questions and emotions.

 

CHAPTER 2

 

Dean pulled into the parking lot of the relatively rundown apartment complex he lived in. Castiel had been resting for a while now and Dean was hesitant to make him stir. The man looked so worn out, his body completely limp against Dean’s.

Dean looked at the man, examining him yet again. The way his disheveled hair fell across his forehead. It looked so soft, like a baby chick’s down. Dean found himself reaching with his hand that was not pinned to lightly grasp a lock of the wispy hair in between his fingertips. It was just as soft as he imagined.

As he played with the small strand of hair, Castiel began to come around, letting out a small grunt as he moved and began to open his eyes. Dean would have normally pulled away quickly but he didn’t feel the need to for some reason.

The warmth of the man leaning on him was comforting as was his presence. Suddenly Dean wondered if he had done this before. It was almost like deja-vu. This thought stopped him short and he pulled his hand away from Castiel’s hair.

Castiel looked up, fully aware of what Dean had been doing. He hadn’t been asleep of course. And he tried to swallow the huge lump in his throat.

“We should get you inside.” Dean said, his voice just a breath.

The way Dean said “we” made Castiel’s heart give a leap of hope which he quickly smothered. He couldn’t afford hope yet.

Castiel nodded at Dean in agreement and began to sit up, his body fatigued from the emotional stress he’d been experiencing. Much to Castiel’s pleasure, the arm around his shoulders tightened protectively. But he knew he shouldn’t like it so he pushed off of Dean carefully, “I’m fine.”

“The hell you are. You just passed out in my bar and then slept all the way here. And you look like crap.”

Castiel sighed. Dean hadn’t changed a bit.

Castiel allowed Dean to pull him out of the car before they began to walk slowly, Dean was being paranoid, up to Dean’s apartment.

Once they were inside Dean put Cas on the couch, “Lay down.” He ordered, before walking into the kitchen. Cas did as he was told, lying down and settling into the cushions. He looked around the small apartment. It was pretty much bare of any decorations, which wasn’t surprising. There were some light fixtures and a table with two chairs. The main thing in the main room of the small flat was the large flatscreen placed halfway between the couch and the table.

Castiel’s eyes traveled around the familiar apartment. He knew it like the back of his hand. Being an angel had its perks. Castiel could check up on Dean at any time. Then again, it was also a curse. He was forced to see Dean living a life he was not suited for.

He was meant to be a hunter. His strong body and flawless technique made him dangerous to anything supernatural that roamed the earth. But of course right now he was convinced that he had lived in Lawrence for the past year or so.

The memories created for him made him believe that he grown up in southern Kansas. He had gone to school like normal children and had never held a gun except for in 11th grade when his father took him to the shooting range.

Castiel shut his eyes hard, clearing his mind. This made up reality that Dean lived in cut him like the blade of a knife. He willed himself to empty his mind as his breath became ragged. His throat began to dry out as the breaths became more and more intense.

Dean was suddenly at his side, “Castiel?” he said, worry painting his voice.

Castiel tried his best to slow his breathing, so Dean would stop worrying. He opened his eyes slowly and the sight of Dean’s face made his heart throb, as it always did.

Dean had a glass of water for him which he held out to the angel. Cas took it with a small, apologetic smile. He drank the water greedily, the liquid feeling wonderful in his parched throat.

“Fine my ass.” Dean grumbled. He took the empty glass from Cas and walked back into the kitchen. Cas sat up and tried to stay calm.

Since Dean had lost his memories, Cas had become completely unraveled. He watched the most important person in his life forget about him. He thought he would be strong enough to stay away, but he wasn’t. Within a few months he had caved and come to Lawrence.

He watched go about his day to day life, the most exciting part of his day was when he came home and well…Cas blocked that from his mind for now. It would do anyone any good for him to be aroused at the moment.

Dean came back, eyeing Castiel suspiciously, “Stay here for the night then I’ll give you a lift to wherever tomorrow. I’m not working.”

Cas simply nodded, knowing that Dean wouldn’t change his mind. This was quite the mess that he had gotten himself into. Not only was he breaking his promise by coming to see Dean, but now he was in his apartment.

He knew he would pay for this later. But all he could do now was do everything in his power not to attack the man he loved who was sitting in front of him, totally unaware of who he actually was.

 

CHAPTER 3

 

Dean had insisted that Castiel wear some of his clothes to sleep in, seeing as slacks and a tie weren’t exactly comfortable. After giving him some grief, Castiel finally caved. Dean had given him an old AC/DC shirt to wear which was slightly loose on Cas’s smaller frame.

Cas had refused any other clothes, seeing as he was intoxicated by the scent coming off of just the shirt. He walked out of the bathroom with the shirt on and Dean stared at him. This made Cas uncomfortable. There was a flicker of something in Dean’s eyes for a moment that the angel couldn’t quite decipher.

“There’s a pillow on the couch with a blanket.”

“Thank you.”

“Well then…good night.”

“Good night.”

There was the same flicker of something in Dean’s eyes and he opened his mouth as if to say something before turning and closing the door to his room.

Castiel stood, his eyes fixated on the door for a long minute before he turned and walked slowly to the couch.

He simply lay down and pulled the blanket over him. He wasn’t planning to sleep. But this would be one of the hardest nights he had ever experienced.

For a few minutes he lay motionless, his eyes fixed on the tiny designs in the paint on the ceiling. But then a smell started to creep into his nose.

It was the smell of Dean.

He steeled himself against the aroma but it was too late, the smell had penetrated his thoughts and brought with it a deluge of memories.

The first night he had slept in the same bed as Dean. Whenever they had been together in the Impala. The countless times Dean had cared for him while he was hurt.

And then the stronger, more potent memories.

The creaking of a bed and the sound of ragged breathing. Cas felt his face and neck flush as these memories rushed back. He had been trying so hard to suppress them.

He felt the sensation of Dean’s full lips, soft on his own. The feeling of his fingers as he touched and explored Cas. And finally, the feeling when Dean was inside of him, the only time he had ever felt whole.

The sensation that this memory created was instantaneous and overpowering. Cas’s whole body began to tingle with desire, goosebumps raising everywhere. His heart raced and his breaths became uneven. He could feel himself becoming aroused and he screwed his eyes shut, willing the memories to go away.

But the floodgate had been opened. The memories rushed in freely, all the good and the bad. Every moment they had ever shared, up until the last moment Dean had known him.

Cas let out a choked cry at this memory which he tried to muffle with his hand. The sound still escaped and Cas could only hope that Dean was already deeply asleep.

Cas’s whole body was in turmoil, now fully aroused. The mixture of emotion was just too much for him and he tried to concentrate enough so that he could escape.

He shut his eyes and wished himself to be far away. He felt the strange, familiar sensation of his body being violently pulled through space and time.

Cas slowly opened his eyes, the light was blinding. He shielded his eyes with his arm and tried to figure out where he was.

It was someone’s heaven, he was sure of that. No place on Earth was this bright, and Castiel couldn’t sense any humans.

His legs buckled and he landed on his knees in the soft grass before falling forward onto his hands. His heart was still pounding, his mind racing so fast through memories they were just a blur.

Cas concentrated hard, his eyes focusing on the grass in front of him. He began to place the memories back in the recesses of his mind where they had been for almost a year now. As he did this his pulse began to slow and his mind slowly calmed down.

Once he had more of a grip on himself he looked around the heaven. It was pleasant, a sunny day in a well-kept garden. He knew where he was immediately. It was his refuge. It was the heaven of the eternal Tuesday afternoon.

He sighed, powerfully relieved that he now had some form of normalcy. He could collect his thoughts while he was here before...going back. He pushed that idea from his mind before he suffered another attack.

He let the sunlight soak into his dark hair, warming his scalp and his face. He focused on the soft bed of grass beneath his hands and knees, how each blade gave way to his weight. He tried to focus on the smell of the flowers that decorated this whole heaven. There was the constant hum of the bees as they busied themselves with the flora.

Here, it seemed, there could never be a problem. Like there never had been a problem. The thought that this was a conflict free place comforted Cas and gave him some perspective.

Cas pushed off the ground and stood, still dressed as he had been in Dean’s apartment. He used this opportunity to stretch his wings. They expanded, the shadow they cast easily 30 feet wide. It felt just like stretching a sore limb and he heard the cracking and popping of the many joints in his wingspan.

He sighed in relief, feeling himself slowly coming back down to earth, figuratively of course. The raven feathers shimmered iridescently in the strong sunlight, shades of green, blue and purple making brief appearances as the angel shook out his wings.

After what seemed like ages he decided it was time to go back, Dean would probably be waking soon and he didn’t need the stress of Cas disappearing. After taking one more look around the sunny utopia Cas closed his eyes and took himself back to the apartment.

 

CHAPTER 4

 

The apartment was gray in the light of dawn, casting a strange, surreal shadow over everything. Cas slowly slipped himself back onto the couch and took a deep breath. He shut his eyes and focused on clearing his mind.

Before long there was stirring in the next room and Cas felt his hands clench slightly as he heard the springs of the bed protest. The door to Dean’s room opened and he emerged, his hair disheveled and his face flushed from sleeping. He wore nothing but a pair of boxers and his toned chest nearly gave Cas a heart attack. It glowed in the low light and made Cas’s heart swell with desire. It was like Adonis had just emerged before him.

Dean walked over to the couch, looking at the deceptively sleeping Castiel. His eyes lingered on the sleeping figure below him. The way his shirt formed to Castiel’s chest which rose and fell in a steady rhythm. And how Castiel’s boxers formed to his groin, the fabric hugging the shape of his manhood just enough that Dean’s throat tightened.

Dean’s thoughts began to derail even more as he looked at the sleeping man in front of him. He felt something he had never felt before. He felt attracted to a man. He knew he had never had that feeling before…so why did it feel so familiar?

Dean leaned down, brushing Castiel’s cheek with the back of his hand lightly. The man stirred and Dean pulled back slightly. Bright blue eyes opened slowly and looked up at Dean.

Dean wasn’t sure if it was the way Castiel had looked at him, or the way what he wore showed off his body but Dean was suddenly hot and flushed. He leaned forward, giving Castiel no time to adjust and kissed the angel fiercely.

Cas had been controlling himself but that restraint was almost nonexistent now as he kissed Dean back with all of him. He put everything he had into the kiss. It was so familiar to him, the way Dean’s lips felt, how he played with his tongue and how amazing he tasted. It was like they had picked up right where they had left off.

The angel’s hands gripped desperately at Dean’s shoulders as he mounted Cas on the couch. Cas felt his body instantly respond, having been dormant to this kind of heat since Dean had lost his memories. He felt himself grow hard, his erection straining against his boxers. He pulled Dean close to him with all his strength, never wanting to let him escape and Dean didn’t seem to mind.

Dean thrust his tongue into Castiel’s mouth, tasting and exploring as his hands did the same to the rest of the man. They slipped nimbly up his shirt, feeling the soft skin of his chest which was stretched over the surprisingly defined muscle. His fingers teased the other man’s already erect nipples and Castiel released the first sound of pleasure. The low moan resonated in the kiss and made Dean even hungrier.

His hands pulled Castiel’s shirt up and over his head, he broke the kiss just long enough to pull the shirt out of the way before they were kissing fiercely again. This was different than Dean had ever experienced, he felt like a virgin again. He felt like this was the first time he had touched another person. It was all new, and so exciting.

Dean felt himself harden against his underwear and he was shocked momentarily. He had gotten hard with another man…but at this point he didn’t care enough to worry. He broke the hot, wet kiss to begin kissing down Castiel’s neck.

The man underneath him gasped, his fingers digging into Dean’s back as he traveled lower down his body.

“D…Dean…wait!” Castiel barely choked out Dean’s name around a moan. Dean didn’t pause and continued lower down the toned and firm torso before him.

“P..please! Wait a moment…” Castiel gasped. Dean growled and looked up the planes of the other’s body to his face.

Cas knew they couldn’t go through with this. He wouldn’t be able to keep Dean’s artificial memories in check. If he and Dean were as intimate as once were, they risked breaking down the carefully constructed wall in Dean’s head. All his memories would flood back and it would mean the end of Dean’s sanity.

“Why?” Dean demanded, his voice lined with desperation.

The desperation weakened Cas’s resolve but he took a deep breath, “We just can’t.”

“Like hell we can’t.”

Dean began to kiss around Castiel’s navel and the angel choked out a groan, “No!” He pleaded, more to his body than to Dean. His body kept responding positively when he shouldn’t be encouraging this.

“Castiel,” the angel’s name rolled off Dean’s tongue roughly and he looked down at Dean which was a mistake. His emerald eyes burned like fire with the hunger he felt, “I don’t want to stop…I can’t.”

Cas felt his willpower crumble into dust and he placed his hands on either side of Dean’s face, pulling it up to kiss him passionately. He would burn for this, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was that he had Dean.

Dean broke the wild kiss, both gasping for air and hastily lowered himself so he was at the same level as Castiel’s full erection. He couldn’t even tease like he normally did in foreplay; he yanked the other man’s underwear off and threw them to the floor.

His lips were instantaneously on Castiel, tasting the precum that was slick on his arousal. His mouth greedily tasted the entire length of Castiel whose hips arched off the couch. There was a stream of almost unbroken moans emanating from Cas as Dean pleasured him.

This was so much better than he remembered. His memories had not done it justice. At the exact moment Castiel thought this, Dean took his entire length into his mouth. Cas cried out, his hips thrusting into the warm, dark hole of Dean’s mouth.

“G..god…Dean!” Cas moaned, his eyes screwed shut and his hands flying to the couch cushion, gripping it tightly.

Dean felt himself grow harder as Castiel cried out. His hunger grew and he pulled his head back, Cas fell out of his mouth with a loud _pop_ -ing sound.

Dean hastily removed his boxers, the heat becoming unbearable. He lowered his hips so that he was in between Castiel’s legs, the hot, slick skin of their erections touching and sending them both almost over the edge. Dean’s breath came out in rapid pants, his breathing as fast as Castiel’s. He slowly began to grind his hips, rubbing their groins together and making them both moan loudly.

Cas’s hands flew up to grab Dean’s biceps to steady himself. He was completely lost in a cloud of ecstasy, his mind a cloud of lust and confusion.

And then he did something he rarely ever did. The Angel of the Lord swore.

“Dean,” he pleaded, his eyes boring into the man’s above him, “Fuck me…please.” The mixture of profanity and Cas’s utter desperation drove Dean mad.

Dean’s hand snaked down Castiel’s body and quickly took purchase between his legs. He slipped his first precum slick finger against Cas’s entrance. Castiel gasped, his fingers digging into Dean’s arms. Dean slowly pushed in, beginning a slow rhythm. He found it didn’t take long before he could add a second finger at which point he crooked his digits, instinctively knowing where Castiel’s prostate was.

Cas’s back arched so high he was almost bent in half, his eyes rolling back in his head and his mouth hanging slack. Dean felt his self-restraint snap when he saw Castiel in such a state of need. He removed his fingers, quickly pushing himself into Castiel’s entrance, hissing as he felt the tight heat of Castiel’s hole. Castiel gasped, his hands grasping desperately at Dean’s back, as if trying to hold on to his sanity.

Dean pushed himself in to the hilt. Once he was completely inside he hoisted Castiel’s hips up so he could drive down into him. Castiel’s face was flushed and a sheen of sweat covered his forehead, he looked like he had completely given into the pleasure.

Dean slowly began to move, evoking hoarse, choked moans from the man below him. The angel’s eyes were still glazed over, as if he wasn’t completely there. Dean wondered fleetingly why this was but Castiel cried out again as Dean once again struck the sensitive bundle of nerves and he forgot his train of thought.

Castiel saw fireworks explode in his vision as Dean continually hit his sweet spot. His hands traveled down Dean’s back to his ass where he gripped the chiseled muscle and pulled him in closer.

Dean seemed to be everywhere and it completely overwhelmed Cas’s senses. He could see nothing, hear nothing, smell nothing, feel nothing that wasn’t Dean. The hunter had claimed once again.

 _Even without your memories you still triumph over me…_ Castiel’s thoughts were incredulous and oddly affectionate as he took in all he could in the moment. He knew the moment wouldn’t last, that Dean would need to go back into the dark because of him. But for now, he was going to be with him.

As Cas formed this resolve Dean changed his rhythm, leaving the angel gasping for air and clutching at Dean. The hunter was almost inhuman in how he was making love to Castiel, all inhibitions gone. It was like their bodies were meant to click together. Dean knew Cas like the back of his hand, though he didn’t know why. And Castiel knew everything about Dean from the dramatic curve of his full lips to the calloused and warm grasp of his hands.

Dean’s hands grabbed the arm of the couch behind the angel’s head, using it as leverage to push even deeper into the angel who was going half mad with pleasure. Castiel could only hold onto Dean and moan his name between the cries of ecstasy that poured from his lips.

Dean’s hands threatened to rip through the fabric of the old couch as he moaned in sync with the angel below him.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of déjà-vu that he felt. The feeling that he had been here before, in this same position with this man below him. Unexpectedly images flashed, white and searing hot, in his mind. He flinched, a hissed breath escaping his lips. Only a few flashed before disappearing and leaving him disoriented.

It had all happened so fast that Castiel hadn’t seemed to notice Dean’s distraction. Once again, the sight of the moaning, sweating, desperate Castiel drove Dean nearly mad. He felt an instinctive need rush over him and he began thrusting his hips with even more power.

“Dean!” Castiel choked out, his hands moving to knot themselves in the hunter’s short hair. He could feel the familiar sensation of heat rushing southward and pooling in his groin.

Dean shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, a very similar sensation rushing through his own body. Both bodies tensed and arched, every muscle straining with the effort, as they spilled their seed. Castiel let out a final cry and Dean gripped the material behind the angel’s head so tightly it began to tear at the seams.

Their bodies fell tangled, limp, and heaving onto the couch. Cas felt nothing but the warm body that lay on top of his and wished from the bottom of his heart that this moment would last forever.

 

CHAPTER 5

 

The men lay, unmoving for what seemed like hours. The sun had begun to lazily creep over the horizon, shooting daylight through the windows and across the naked figures on the couch.

Cas had closed his eyes, focusing all his attention on his other senses. The sense of smell as Dean’s musk surrounded him, the sense of the warm, soft touch of Dean’s skin against his own, the sense of sound as Dean’s breathing radiated through his chest and swirled calmly into the apartment.

They lay there for so long that Cas wondered if Dean had fallen asleep, he gently reached a hand up to brush a thumb along the hunter’s perfect cheekbones. Everything about Dean was perfect. The way his lips curved, how his skin stretched over his muscles, how his hands were hot and calloused yet so gentle, how his eyes gleamed a lively green, the way his back curved towards his legs. As Castiel listed all the things about Dean he found impeccable, he traced the various contours of his body.

Dean stirred, his breath hitching slightly, making Cas believe he had been asleep. It couldn’t have been easy for Dean to make love to him. His mind must have been in turmoil. There was a moment where Dean had seemed to almost lose his grip and Cas had nearly stopped him. But the hunter seemed in control now as he slowly propped himself up, his eyes trailing to the angel’s.

Crystal green met icy blue as both men wordlessly looked at each other. Dean’s brow was furrowed in the slightest and Cas reached up to smooth the wrinkles. It was a reflex because he didn’t like those lines; they meant that Dean was unsure of something.

His heart thumped painfully as he descended from his post coital high. He knew that now he had to disappear, without an explanation, from Dean forever. Especially since Dean was no doubt experiencing flashbacks and would soon begin to ask questions.

Emotion choked the angel and he suppressed a small whimper like cry, Dean’s eyes still locked on his.

The thought of never seeing Dean again completely destroyed Castiel’s world. There was no meaning in his world if Dean wasn’t a part of it.

How could he possibly function when the better half of him was missing? Dean was everything he wasn’t: daring, brave, strong. He was his anchor, the only thing that kept him from spinning out into oblivion.

“Cas…”Dean whispered, his eyes soft but looking at Castiel intensely.

Cas froze as his nickname rolled off of the hunter’s tongue. He tensed as if ready to spring, his mind running through a hundred scenarios a second.

But he was trapped in Dean’s gaze, like a lamb trapped by a lion. He felt a shaky breath escape his lips as he responded slowly, “It’s Castiel.” His heart nearly ripped out of his chest as Dean looked confused and then his expression smoothed.

“Right, sorry.” Dean smiled and pushed himself up so he could stand. He grabbed his underwear from where they had been “placed” the night before.

Cas knew this was his chance to leave. Dean no longer seemed to be questioning the angel so he had to leave before any more triggers threatened the wall. It must have been damaged by what had happened in the last few hours. But it would slowly mend, it was built to reconstruct over time.

Dean had walked into the bathroom and Castiel could hear the soft rush of the shower. He quickly made his way to the dryer to retrieve his clothes, slipping them on as fast as he could.

He wasn’t racing Dean, no. He was racing against himself. He needed to escape before he could convince himself to stay.

It felt like every piece of him, every fiber was being shredded as he closed his eyes and left Dean unaware in his apartment.

He landed in an empty field somewhere in southern Kansas, he hadn’t been able to get very far. His vessel’s body shook as he fell to the ground, his arms wrapping around himself instinctively.

He had known all along that Dean would be the death of him. Now as he lay in an empty field he could feel his will slipping away.

When he had originally erased Dean’s memories he had not been this bad. Perhaps that was because he had promised himself he keep an eye on him. He knew in the back of his mind this day would come but he had been too weak to break the bonds while Dean had no idea who he was.

_No idea who he was._

A sob ripped through the angel’s chest, his normally casual façade nonexistent. It had been left with Dean as he tore himself away.

He no longer felt as though he could lift a finger let alone protect himself. His grace seemed dim, almost like a dying light. He was easy pickings and he knew it but he couldn’t find it in himself to move from his place on the ground.

His hand clutched subconsciously at his chest, trying to ease the pain that gripped him like a vice.

How could he have ever known it would end up like this. That the only person that meant anything to him anymore would forget about him. And by his own hand. He had deleted himself from Dean’s life with his own hands.

He was suddenly furious, tears falling from his unblinking eyes as he sat up to his knees, gripping the earth beneath him as if he could break it into a million pieces.

He felt something building within him, a heat, a fire that raged and burned and destroyed from within. It formed in his gut and made its way to his throat where he released it as a cry of pure rage and pain. The sky above him instantly darkened, thunder seeming to mimic his cry. Lightning reached with long, deadly fingers to the place where he knelt.

It was because of what he was that he could not be with the one he loved. All his rage was directed at the heavens, his tear stained face was twisted into rage, his teeth gritted and his eyes flashing. He must have looked utterly terrifying. Nothing was scarier than watching an angel fall from grace.

And this was precisely what Castiel was experiencing as the storm closed in around him.

 

CHAPTER 6

 

The water ran hot and Dean stepped in, his body strangely sore from the night before. He rubbed his left shoulder, rolling it to try and get rid of the tension that was building there. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he had slept with another man. And had been okay with it. And it had just felt so _damn_ good. A shiver ran up his spine as he recalled the previous night. The way him and Castiel had fit together, the way their bodies had moved in perfect sync. Almost like they had practiced it, or even done it before.

Dean’s hands ran lather over his body, removing the sweat and other various bodily fluids from the night before. As he remembered the night before, the images he had seen ran through his mind. His head reeled as he tried to make sense of all the images that had been flashing in his mind.

There was the Impala, which was nothing out of the ordinary, sitting on the side of a dusty back road. But then there was a man, about Dean’s age, as tall as a building sitting in the passenger seat and laughing. Then there was a woman with dark hair and pure black eyes. Other images also flashed briefly: there was an older man in a wheelchair with scruffy clothes on, an old auto repair shop, a trunkful of weapons and fire, fire everywhere.

The fire seared in Dean’s brain, the pain making his eyes screw shut and his jaw clench. He leaned against the wall, trying to get his bearings back. He could always see a few pictures before the fire pushed back, causing him to lose the images before he could make sense of them.

They were all slightly out of focus too, like he was looking through some sort of veil. He couldn’t make out any words or and specific details. The more he tried to focus, the hotter the fire became, burning away any images he managed to dig up.

“Dammit!” He punched the white tile of the shower, his expression frustrated. Nothing frustrated him more than being unable to do something.

Another picture flashed across his vision, this time without him searching for it.

It was a man in a trench coat, his blue eyes unmistakable. Dean felt himself flood with emotion, the sensations overwhelming. He clutched at the wall, unable to find anything to help hold him up. He felt the air rush from his lungs like he’d been punched in the gut. His knees grew weak but he continued to stand, fighting against the explosion of emotion.

He stood, his breath returning in pants, the steady stream of water running over him. He focused on calming the rapid beating of his heart.

_What the hell is going on?_

The bartender stood in the shower a moment longer before deciding that it was time to get out. Castiel had been waiting for a while at this point. He felt his throat tighten in anticipation as he thought the man’s name.

There was no reason to be excited…but it wasn’t quite excitement. It was more anxiety—anxiety to see the other man again. This threw Dean more for a loop and a crease formed between his eyebrows as they knitted together.

He stepped out of the shower into the steam filled room, grabbing his towel quickly and wrapping it around his waist. He ran his fingers through his hair, creating a small shower of water before he opened the door, steam swirling out into the hallway.

“Casti..el?” Dean paused as he stepped into the hallway. There was silence in the apartment. Dean searched every room in the tiny apartment, but found no sign of the other man. _His clothes are gone...he must have taken off._

The disappointment that shot through Dean caught him off guard and did nothing to help his already confused mind.

_DAMMIT?!_

He was angry now, pissed at these images that raced through his mind. He didn’t even know what the connection was between them but he was being forced to deal with the pain.

Why was Castiel flashing in his mind along with the other images? What was his connection to him? Why did he feel like he knew him? Why did Castiel…?

Pain shot through every nerve in Dean’s body, and he doubled over, his hands grabbing the sides of his head. It felt like his brain was overheating, like it was being torn to shreds as the fire raced through, erasing the images he had worked so hard to uncover.

After several minutes of agony the pain subsided and Dean slumped to the floor, breathing heavily, a sheen of sweat covering his body. He felt his consciousness slowly slipping away as the last of the pain subsided, leaving him strangely numb.

 

CHAPTER 7

 

Castiel felt the lightning strike around him and the thunder shake the ground. His mind was filled with rage and pain, the emotions clearing everything else away except for a small piece of the angel.

The small voice of reason in the back of his mind warned him to stop otherwise the other angels would be forced to put an end to this themselves.

 _Let them._ The less rational Castiel replied, the rage building again, coiling like a snake about to strike.

He didn’t care what they did to him. Dean didn’t belong to him anymore. Dean didn’t love him as he once had. He had been naïve to think that they could have ever been together.

It seemed as though all the forces of heaven and earth were working against them, tearing them apart every time they managed to find each other again. There was nothing they wouldn’t have done for each other, but sometimes everything is not enough.

The anger began to subside, taking the storm with it, leaving only pain. A light rain began to fall, slowly growing stronger as Castiel gave into his sadness.

_I have fallen._

Cas was still gripping the earth, but now it was more to anchor himself. The rain soaked through his clothes quickly, leaving him shivering and cold.

He felt the flame of anger extinguish as the rain fell, a numbness taking its place. His mind wandered, wondering idly what he would do now.

What would he do when he couldn’t watch over…De...him? He choked on his name and decided it would be best to avoid it.

_You will proceed as you always have. You were foolish to get too close to those in your charge. You must pay the consequences and move on._

The small part of Castiel that was still an angel lingered, feeding rational ideas into his head. But Castiel did not want to be rational. It was so…human of him to feel that way. But he didn’t care.

Then another thought made its way to the forefront of his mind. _Why not do what you did for Sam. Take on the burden of Dean’s memories._

A small shadow of hope grew in Cas as this thought rooted its way into his brain. He had thought he had done everything but that wasn’t true. He could take the burden of the horrible things Dean had witnessed in Purgatory upon himself. An angel’s mind was far more stable than a human’s.

Cas felt a new hope begin to grow inside him as he pushed himself off the ground. He had survived through Lucifer’s torture. Surely Purgatory wouldn’t be as bad.

He gathered the little energy he had left, standing straight and tilting his head towards the sky. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them he was in Dean’s apartment.

“Dean?” His voice was breathless, with the tiniest hint of excitement. He could save Dean.

He waited for a moment, there was no answer.

“Dean? De…”He stopped, seeing the crumpled figure on the ground. _No! Please no._

Castiel was at Dean’s side in an instant, cradling his unconscious body in his arms.

“Dean. Dean!” His voice became more panicked as he took a once over of Dean. All the color was gone from his face and his eyes had developed dark circles.

 _Please, God. Let him be alright._ Cas pleaded and prayed, his arms holding the man he loved.

Dean’s chest rose and fell with the slight motion of his breathing but other than that he seemed to have lost all his life.

Cas acted quickly, placing his hand on Dean’s forehead, his fingers fanning out. The angel concentrated hard, his consciousness slipping into Dean’s mind.

It was Hell. Not just any part of Hell, it was Purgatory. Where only the darkest evil lurked, preying on anything it could.

Dean was nowhere to be seen and Castiel began to wander, calling out Dean’s name. The only responses were the guttural snarls and gut wrenching howls from the creatures that haunted the dark.

Cas searched for what seemed like hours, becoming more and more frantic. He couldn’t find Dean in the Purgatory of his own mind. His cries had become louder, making Dean’s name a chant.

Finally he stopped walking, his hands clenching into fists. _He_ has _to be here. I know he is_.

“DEAN! DEAN WHERE ARE YOU?!”

A ghostly chuckle came from behind Castiel and he whirled. It was different than all the other sounds. It was human.

“Cas, long time no see.” The voice was familiar but laced with a rasp that was almost a growl.

A figure, not quite a man, not quite a beast, emerged from the dark mist. Castiel froze, his eyes instantly pricking with tears, “No.” He said in quiet horror.

“Yes.” The voice rasped, “It’s me, Cas. See what you’ve done to me?”

Cas sank to his knees before the creature and it let out a bone chilling cackle.

Before the angel stood Dean, but it wasn’t human Dean, not even Hell Dean. It was purgatory Dean. His eyes were a dull yellow, the skin around them dark with exhaustion. His frame was contorted in a strange way but was still large. He was truly a hunter now, his body built to kill, to survive.

Cas knelt before a creature that was half man, half beast, and all that remained of the man he loved.

“I remember you, Castiel.”

 

CHAPTER 8

 

Castiel couldn’t speak, his mind in shock.

“What? Don’t like me in this form? I think it’s kind of pretty.” Dean flexed his horridly large muscles, the tendons standing out against the darkened skin.

“Dean…” The name barely made it past his mouth, but the new hunter Dean heard him. He leaned forward his eyebrows rising in expectation.

“What…happened…to you?” The angel’s voice broke on the last word, his eyes still staring at the man before him.

“You left me here, Cas. And thanks to you I got all my memories back! I gotta, say, you really hid a lot of shit. It was like Hell all over again, except ten times worse.”

Cas flinched, guilt twisting his insides, “I’m sorry…”

“Sorry might have cut it a couple years ago. I’ve been here for a lot longer than you’d think. Time is different in Purgatory than in the rest of Hell. I’ve been here for 20 years, Cas. You left me to die.”

Cas’s lips moved, trying desperately to deny what Dean was saying but the hunter grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground.

“HOW LONG DID YOU EXPECT ME TO WAIT? HOW LONG DID YOU EXPECT ME TO LAST HERE?” The hand around the angel’s throat tightened and Cas could feel his lungs begin to burn as he ran out of oxygen. The tendons in his neck stood out as he grasped onto the hand that was killing him.

“I didn’t know…Dean…”Cas gasped. There was a flicker in the new Dean’s eyes and his face twisted into pain before he steeled his expression, dropping Cas to the ground.

Cas coughed, holding his throat as he looked up towards Dean.

“I might still be able to fix it. I just need to…”

“What difference will it make, Cas?!” A piece of the old Dean broke through and Cas seized the chance.

“I can make the pain go away. The memories from Purgatory will be gone. Then we can stay together, and you won’t be burdened anymore. And you can see Sam anytime you want…”

Dean had turned to face away from the angel but he could see his muscles relaxing, almost in defeat.

“Dean, please. I want nothing more than to do this for you, for us. I can raise you from perdition once more.”

“The damage is done, Cas.” Dean’s voice was soft, broken.

Cas felt his heart being squeezed by the need to comfort Dean. He stood slowly, walking to where the other stood. He slowly placed a hand on his back, the skin more leathery than normal and boiling hot. Dean seemed to relax even more with the touch, sighing lowly.

“We will make it through. We always do.” Castiel’s voice was barely a whisper, hiding his doubt.

Dean tensed slightly under the angel’s hand, “Yeah, and that’s worked out so well in the past.”

Dean suddenly turned, Cas wrenching back his hand just in time. The Purgatory Dean was so much taller, so much more built, and so much more vulnerable than old Dean had been. Cas could see it in his yellowing eyes, the pain that he was truly feeling.

His own eyes mirrored the pain and the men stood for what seemed hours, never moving their eyes, both trying to wordlessly convince the other.

“Dean I…” Cas began, his eyes still locked on the hunter’s.

Dean shook his head infinitesimally, warning Cas not to continue speaking. Cas knew him well enough to know that he was hanging on by his fingertips to the edge inside his mind.

But the angel spoke anyway, keeping his voice soothingly quiet.

“Please let me save you, “Dean began to shake his head and Cas continued quickly, “At least let me try. What do we have to lose?”

Dean’s eyes were hard as he looked at the angel before him. He was silent for a long time before he hesitantly nodded, “Fine, but I’m warning you, it’s no stroll in the park. My head is even more fucked up than it was last time.”

Cas nodded, eagerly moving forward, his arm outstretching. Dean almost flinched away from the angel’s touch, unused to any contact that was not strictly violent.

But as soon as the angel touched his forehead, all his doubts melted away, as did his consciousness.

 

CHAPTER 9

 

Cas reached out hesitantly, two fingers extended. His eyes were focused on the hunter before him, unblinking, and looking for any sign of movement. He still wasn’t completely sure that Dean wouldn’t snap.

Dean’s eyes were just as intent on the angel, their yellowing edges bright and wary as Cas slowly moved his hand towards him. There was a momentary flicker of uncertainty in those yellow eyes that made Cas pause only for a second.

But he had to do this. He needed to save Dean, no matter the cost. And so with resolve he closed the distance between them and his fingers pressed solidly to the hunter’s forehead. Dean closed his eyes, his mouth falling open slightly, at the touch.

And suddenly white light was pouring from Dean. His eyes glowed with it and his mouth burned with Castiel’s grace. He let out a cry as he felt his mind expand, making room for another consciousness as the angel entered.

Cas looked up and closed his eyes, feeling the weight of Dean’s memories beginning to swamp him. They were like long, black hands that grabbed the angel’s consciousness and dragged it down. Tried to drag him into the depths of Dean’s mind where he could never escape.

But the angel fought against them, pulling them away from Dean, pulling them towards himself. They clawed and struggled against the angel’s strength but he pushed even harder. Cas’s jaw clenched as he tried to free Dean.

But this time, unlike last time, he left the memory of when they met. All those years ago, and Dean hadn’t believed he was real. And he left other memories as well, only happy ones. Their white mist-like bodies swirled around the small, sane part of Dean’s mind protectively.

With a final surge Castiel released Dean from his demons and the hunter collapsed onto the floor of his apartment, his mind returning to his body.

But Castiel was far from free, the demons he had pulled from Dean now screeched in defiance, raining down on the angel like one of God’s plagues. They tore and ripped at his consciousness, trying to reach the inside of his mind.

As much as Castiel wanted to fight back, as much as every fiber in his being told him not to, he had to let them in. So he stopped fighting, stopped resisting and the memories were merciless.

They poured into his mind, shredding his sanity along the way. They turned the angel’s mind into a pit of darkness. With nothing but pain and guilt inside, writhing and swirling in sickening circles.

And then a voice.

But not just any voice.

It was the voice of his salvation.

The voice he would walk through fire for.

The voice he fell from grace for.

“Cas! Cas snap out of it! C’mon, please!”

It was those few words that gave Cas the strength to pull through, his consciousness bursting in one final battle out of the Purgatory of Dean’s mind.

 

CHAPTER 10

 

“Cas? CAS!” Dean shook the angel in his arms, trying to wake him.

He could see Cas’ eyes rolling behind his eyelids, they darted and spinned sickeningly and only made Dean more frantic.

“Dammit c’mon. I just got you back! Don’t you dare leave me again!”

A broken sound escaped from the angel’s lips and his body began to writhe in Dean’s arms. He seemed to be fighting something and it looked like he was losing.

“C’mon, Cas buddy I can’t save you from this one. C’mon!”

Cas’ hand twitched towards Dean, as if trying to grab him. Dean nodded even though Cas couldn’t see him, “That’s it! C’mon!”

Cas’ eyes shot open and he gasped. He sat straight up and began to claw at himself everywhere.

“Get them off! GET THEM OFF!” He screamed, ripping at his clothes and skin.

“Cas! Get a hold of yourself.” Dean said grabbing the angel by the shoulders and centering him. Cas’ eyes snapped to his face, they blue depths seemed to roil and move with chaos.

“D…Dean…”

“Yeah, Cas. It’s me. I remember you.”

Cas’ lips curled up into a small smile but his eyes still were in chaos. Dean watched him warily.

“You remember me.” Cas almost laughed. Dean’s eyes narrowed and he held the angel tighter, preparing for a violent response. But instead Cas began to fall over in Dean’s arms his body collapsing. Dean caught him and pulled him closer.

“Hey, buddy, what’s going on? What’s wrong with you?”

Cas only laughed breathlessly, looking up at Dean. He was smiling but not in a comforting way. It was the smile of a man who was hanging onto the edge by his fingertips.

“They’re inside me. They’re taking me over.”

“Who? Who’s taking over?”

Cas only laughed, his head lolling back and his eyes closing.

“Hey. Don’t you dare. Open your eyes.” Dean shook him and successfully opened Cas’ eyes. They looked dead now, a look that terrified Dean.

“I…” Cas began, his voice hoarse.

“Stop. No talking.” Dean said bruskly, scooping Cas up and carrying him to the bedroom where he placed him on the bed.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I tried to get rid of them.”

“Get rid of what?”

“The demons…in your head.”

“What demons?”

Cas smiled at that, “Exactly.” He closed his eyes and his body settled into the pillows.

“No, no sleeping. Not right now.”

“Just let me rest, please. That’s all I need.” Cas pleaded, his eyes staying closed as he quickly fell into unconsciousness.

“Cas…I don’t know…” But the angel was already asleep. Angels weren’t supposed to be able to sleep, Dean knew that much. But he seemed like he was only sleeping.

After a few minutes of watching Cas’ every move Dean began to relax and reality began to sink in. He had Cas back. While he didn’t know what happened really, he knew he and Cas had been separated for a long time.

He settled in next to the angel, not planning to move until he woke up.

~

The room was dark as Cas’ eyes opened slowly. He felt strange, like he could barely move and like he could sleep more even though he was sure he had just slept a very long time.

“Hey.” A soft voice said from Cas’ side.

“Dean?”

“Yeah.” Dean grinned which lit up the tired lines on his face.

“Dean.” Cas was overwhelmed with relief and he turned to Dean, grabbing him and pulling him close.

Dean chuckled at this and kissed the angel’s forehead.

“You gave me quite a scare.”

“I’m sorry.” The sorry was so full of regret and sadness that Dean pulled Cas back to look at him.

“It’s alright, Cas. I know. And it’s fine.”

“But, Dean, what I did to you I could never forg—“

“Cas, stop. I don’t care. You’re here and I’m here. End of story.”

Cas thought momentarily about denying it but decided it wasn’t worth it. Because Dean was right. Regardless of what happened he had Dean and Dean had him. And, at the end of the day, was there really anything else that mattered?

With that thought Castiel relaxed and Dean wrapped his arms around him. With those strong, warm arms around him again Cas felt truly whole. Like he once again had a place where he belonged.

And he would never leave Dean again. Because Dean was a part of him and he was a part of Dean and they could not live one without the other.

So Cas settled into his hunter’s arms with the intention of never moving again.


End file.
